


A Valentines Date

by DaisyFairy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Confusion, Jealous Sherlock, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining, Sad Sherlock, Valentines, date, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 10:08:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9717035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyFairy/pseuds/DaisyFairy
Summary: Set a just over a year after Mary's death, feel free to ignore Series 4 if you want. The important part is she had Rosie, then died, and John is now living at 221B with Sherlock as friends.Sherlock finds some things in the flat that lead him to believe John is dating again, but has he got the wrong end of the stick?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yay, I actually got this published on the right day. (Chriscalledmesweetie - it is amazing how much you can get written on your phone while walking to school).
> 
> And, I actually thought of a title without spending hours prevaricating over it, ok so it is a really obvious title, but take your victories where you find them.

Sherlock is moping around the flat on a dreary Tuesday morning. He has already done the washing up and tidied Rosie’s toys away into the basket, the washing is in the machine and his head feels like it will explode if something exciting doesn’t happen soon.

 

John is at the surgery all day and Rosie is at nursery. In theory Sherlock was supposed to be out working on the Bennett case, but that has hit a complete dead end until the blood analysis results come back from the lab and unfortunately that won’t be until tomorrow. In pure desperation he decides to go upstairs and change the sheets in Rosie’s cot, he considers how his life has changed that he would willingly undertake housework and decides that helping to make a home for John’s daughter is probably an improvement on pacing the room and shooting the walls.

 

He enters the room that John shares with Rosie but before he reaches the cot he spots a large bouquet of flowers, still in the cellophane, sitting in a bucket of water on the floor. It is a stunning display with white roses, blue thistles, green carnations and lots of foliage. Sherlock just stares at it. Lying on the floor next to the bucket is a Valentines Day card still in the wrapper, the front decorated with a red heart and in black script across the front is written “To the One I Love”. His legs suddenly feel weak and he collapses to sit on John’s bed, his breathing speeds up until his vision blurs and he realises he is hyperventilating. Forcing himself to breathe slowly and deeply he closes his eyes and tries not to panic, but this is not easy when he is sitting only a foot away from the evidence that John is dating again, the beginning of a chain of events that can only lead to him leaving and taking Rosie with him. They may not be a conventional family, two friends and a baby, and maybe not quite the relationship Sherlock would like with John, but it is a family and Sherlock has been feeling happier than he can ever remember, it looks like the days for their living arrangement are numbered. He briefly considers the wording of the card – “To the One I Love”, whoever this woman is, must be someone from work, that is the only place john spends any significant amount of time away from Sherlock. To say that John “loves” her seems a little premature, they can’t have been on any more than a lunch date during their workday otherwise Sherlock would have known about it, but then the whole concept of Valentine’s Day is to emphasise the relationship, exaggeration is probably the order of the day, especially if John is hoping for a successful end to the night. He takes a deep breath, and blinks his eyes rapidly a few times then forces himself to stand, he changes Rosie’s sheets and leaves the room casting a hate filled glare at the flower arrangement on his way out.

 

He tries to play his violin to take his mind off of things, but he just can’t settle, visions of a faceless female swooping in and stealing his family away keep looming in his mind. He sighs and decides to check if he has any of the pigs’ kidneys from last week left in the fridge (nowadays he is limiting his experiments in the flat to things that are, at least in theory, edible). Opening the fridge he is surprised to see that it is filled with Marks and Spencer Valentines ready meals, smoked salmon, steak, ready prepared potatoes and chocolate puddings. Sherlock slams the fridge angrily, not only is this woman being given flowers and a graphic representation of John’s heart, but it seems she is also being invited to the flat for dinner. He briefly considers dosing the starter with a laxative to put a swift end to John’s evening, but then feels guilty. John doesn’t really owe him anything, no promises of this arrangement being long term have been made, so he has no right to sabotage John’s romantic efforts.

 

He is just getting himself under control when his phone beeps at him from the mantelpiece. Dashing to check it, hopeful that there is a case to relieve the tedium of the day and take his mind off of John’s attempts at romance, Sherlock is at first elated when he sees it is a text from John, then dismayed when he reads it.

 

**I’m cooking dinner tonight.**

He huffs and fires off a reply:

 

**I would hardly call that cooking, ready meals for a date John? Really?**

It is only moments before John responds:

 

**You looked in the fridge then you git. I’m afraid it’s the best I’m going to be able to do after being here all day. I’ll be dropping Rosie off with Mrs Hudson for a sleepover on my way up.**

Sherlock bites his lip to stop from screaming, but has to stop when he feels like he is about to break the skin. Not only dinner with this woman, but an intimate dinner that requires Rosie to be out of the way, not just for the evening but for the whole night. He grabs his coat and scarf and leaves the flat slamming the door behind him, John obviously wants him out of the way for the night, and to be honest he has no desire to watch John and this mystery woman pawing each other. He sends a brief text:

 

**I understand.**

Sherlock then goes to the park and sits on a bench to amuse himself by deducing the lives of passers-by. It is only moderately diverting, the general populous is really incredibly dull, but he cannot work up enthusiasm for finding anything more taxing to do. Instead his mind keeps returning to John and “The One He Loves”. Does he really love her, or think he does, or is this just a ploy to get her to stay for the night? No, John might be getting desperate for sex, it has been over a year now since Mary died, but Sherlock can’t see him tricking anyone like that. If it was a one night stand he was after he would be upfront about it, he had done it before after all, years ago early in their association on several occasions, and John is still very attractive, he could easily find someone for that sort of encounter.

 

So it is love then, or the beginnings of it, and even if things don’t work out with this woman this signals a change, it is now time for John to move on, so eventually he will find the one to steal him away. Sherlock deduces an old couple walking past him to try to stop thinking about this, but learning about their 40 years of marriage and the way that he holds her arm to support her weak leg so that she doesn’t have to use the stick that she hates really isn’t helping matters.

 

He sits for a few more hours, miserable and cold, but unwilling to return to the flat which will soon be the scene of what his heart keeps insisting will be John’s infidelity. It is nearly seven when his phone beeps and he looks at it half heartedly.

 

**I’m just about ready to serve up.**

What the hell is John thinking? He doesn’t want a running commentary on the date. He puts the phone back in his pocket without replying.

It is several minutes before John sends a further message:

 

**Looks like I’ve been stood up. Where are you?**

Sherlock sighs and can’t decide if it is in relief or frustration at being John’s backup.

 

**I’m at the park. I will be there shortly.**

He walks back to the flat and goes straight to the kitchen where the table is set with cutlery and napkins, two plates with starters on them and glasses of wine to accompany it.

 

“Come on, this is all ready, where have you been?”

 

Sherlock frowns at him, “At the park, like I told you.”

 

John shakes his head fondly, “Fine, fine, come and sit down. To be honest I was surprised you were so calm when you realised it was a date, I had hoped you would think it was just dinner and I was going to talk to you when I got home.”

 

Sherlock swallows a mouthful of smoked salmon around a sudden lump that has formed in his throat. “I..I did panic a bit. The thought of it was.. unsettling.”

 

“But not unwelcome I hope.”

 

Sherlock casts his eyes down, he longs to yell at John that he isn’t allowed to date, that John belongs to him and no one else, but he can’t do that. “No, it seems to be inevitable.”

 

John smiles widely. “Yes, that’s the conclusion I have come to. Inevitable.” He reaches across the table and grasps Sherlock’s forearm gently.

 

Sherlock frowns down at the hand but then ignores it in favour of draining the entire glass of wine in one go. He shoves the remainder of the starter into his mouth then asks “Where’s the main course, we might as well get through this quickly so we can get on with our evening.”

 

John frowns at him, “Did you have plans?”

 

Sherlock flounders for a second, he had no plans at all, but sitting here eating the food from John’s failed date is not something he wants to linger over. “Yes, I thought seeing as Rosie isn’t here I’d take the opportunity to do some experimenting with acids.”

 

John looks crestfallen, “Oh. Oh, OK, I just, I thought, well I thought we’d take our time and maybe watch a film after. I had one picked out, Ghostbusters, the one we were talking about last week and you said you’d never seen it when you were a child.”

 

Sherlock frowns at him, “What do you mean you had a film picked out? You only just got stood up. Or were you were going to show that film to your date? Isn’t that a rather old film to be using to try to seduce whatever her name is into your bed?”

 

John’s jaw drops open, “What?!”

 

Sherlock’s eyes dart all over John’s face trying and failing to work out what is going on.

 

“Wait a minute. Sherlock what do you think is happening here?”

 

Sherlock replies slowly having the feeling that something is wrong here but he doesn’t understand it. “You had a date and wanted me out of the flat, hence the text stating you were making dinner. Your date did not turn up, presumably sent you a message that she couldn’t make it, so you called me home to help you dispose of the food that you had prepared.”

 

John takes a deep breath and stands for several seconds with his eyes closed. When he opens them he smiles and shakes his head “No. No, no, no, no. Let’s start again shall we.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“It’s ok. Come on, sit in your armchair.”

 

Sherlock allows himself to be led to the living room and sits down as directed.

 

“Now. You have been at home all day, you never looked in the fridge, I never texted you, and you don’t know anything about dinner.”

 

“O…kaaay.” Sherlock says uncertainly.

 

“I have just got home from work. Now, let’s try this again.”

 

John takes a deep breath then begins,

 

“Hi. I’ve dropped Rosie off with Mrs H for the night. I thought I’d make us some dinner. I..I don’t know if you realised but it’s Valentine’s Day and, well, I got to thinking about how there isn’t anyone that I would want to spend it with more than you. So, I thought, maybe, it could be like a, a bit like a date.” He trails off and stands there nervously shifting from foot to foot.

 

“Me?”

 

“Yes, you. The only person I spend, have ever spent, as much time thinking about as I do my daughter. You make me laugh, you, you are my family, I think I love you.”

 

Sherlock blinks back tears that have formed in his eyes “There’s no woman coming to steal you and Rosie away from me?”

 

“Not unless she’s kidnapping me at gunpoint, and if she does that I’ll expect you to come and rescue us.”

 

Sherlock laughs, “Always.”

 

“So. Dinner?” John offers his hand to Sherlock.

 

Sherlock takes the hand and allows himself to be pulled from the chair, smiling gently he replies “Starving.”

**Author's Note:**

> I might add another chapter including the actual date now that the boys have sorted themselves out. I'll have to see if/when I get around to it.
> 
> If you enjoyed this please click the kudos button, or even better leave me a comment, they always make me smile.
> 
> I am DaisyFairy1 on Tumblr.


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